The Irish Sight
by Trelawney's Ball
Summary: When Hogwarts is forced to take apprentices for the first time in 100 years, What will an Irish boy do when forced under Trelawney?


Sybill Trelawney sat stiffly in her squashed worn out armchair. She stared at the run down grandfather clock in the corner of her tower, counting down the seconds through the misty haze of incense. In a few moments her punishment would be over, and she would would be free to speak the unobstructed truth again. She wrung her hands, trying to keep a clear mind, as it had been for the past ten years it was difficult. The magic of an Oracle carried its own price, and the consequences for not paying your due were swift and merciless. Slowly, the clock inched closer and closer to 9:27 am. Eighteen years is too long to be trapped behind the mists of time and sight, seeing things clearly, but forced to destroy her credibility and unable to warn of what she had seen.

Then, the second hand reached the twelve and she felt a horribly wrench of her core. Gasping and shaking in the armchair, she burst into sweat as her magic finally realigned and her mind was clear from the haze, and not too soon. Once the shaking and tremors had stopped, she stood picking up her wand from the table. It shivered at her touch and she felt her magic open. Like a faucet, it had been nothing but a drip, limiting her to the most basic spells, barely more than a squib. But, now it poured out of her. Causing the air to spell of ozone as she waved it.

One swish and gone were her thick glasses, replaced by an eye correction charm. Another and her bangles and bracelets were vanished except two made of silver, engraved with runes. Sharp slash and a whispered word and her hair tamed itself and was secured with a simple silver barrette. A twist and her robes changed from tatty cast offs into the robes of a seer, cut Grecian style and made of white muslin. Sparing a quick glance and her mirror she headed down the small ladder to the Headmaster. The time was now. It was truly the eleventh hour and she had been asleep too long.

On another island not too far away, a teenager awoke to the shouts of his mother.

" Matthias, I don't care if you are going to be an apprentice at Hogwarts or not, I did not raise a lazy layabout. Get down here and eat and then go muck out the stables!" She yelled clearly audible from the bottom of the old oak staircase.

" Alright Mam, I'm awake. Ill be down in a moment." he groaned, his face buried into his pillow, brown hair mussed with sleep. Slowly he stretched shaking off the vestiges of sleep. Making his way gingerly past stacks of books, parchment rolls and discarded clothes he squinted against the late morning sun and stumbled down the stairs. As he reached the bottom, he got a cuff on his ear from his for his trouble.

His mother was a woman of medium height, with a large nose and short cropped blonde hair, she wore her habitual jumper and trousers and her green eyes squinted at him in disapproval for sleeping so late. She had never been one for late starts. All his life, Matthias and his family woke shortly after dawn and worked on their small farm outside Ballyconeely. While they were an ancient pureblooded family they worked the land of their ancestors.

"Ow, Mam, That hurt." He whined, scurrying out of her reach.

" You're lucky that all you got. Don't think that just because you're of age and going to be the apprentice of a Master that you're too big to pull your weight. Your brother already finished his chores, and he had to be at work! You better get moving if you want to make the pony show in time." she lectured.

Matthias scarfed down a muffin and cast a switching spell, changing his pajamas for his work clothes and ran out the door headed for the stables.

" Thanks Ma! I almost forgot!" He said as he ran out the door.

The pony show was always held the third Sunday in July, it was the only thing of interest in the small village during the summer and thus was an amazingly large festival. It was famous all around the country as a place to come get rid of your livestock. Wizards and Muggles alike flocked to the festival each year. Matthias was particularly excited this year, his mare, Bluebell would be showing and he planned to get pissed drunk.

Matthias made his way into the stables at a run, throwing cleaning and scouring spells at anything to looked remotely dirty. He reached the stall second to the end and snatched up a currying brush. He clicked his tongue at the piebald in the stable.

" Hey there Bluebell, today's your day girl" He talked to the horse and started humming a tune as brushed the horse laughing ad she tried to eat his still messy hair. "Hey now, I'm not made of grass." he chuckled, tossing on a a saddle. A quick check in the stable mirror and a quick finger combing and he mounted up, riding the mare out of the stable and headed down the road to the town.

The ride was gentle and uneventful as Matthias led her around rough potholes and large stones that would get caught in Bluebell's iron shoes. The gentle swaying woke him up as he pulled into the fair.

Brightly colored tents and old style carts were scattered around the fairground like a child's jacks. He pulled up to the horse show registration and dropped off Bluebell, for her inspection and showing and went to find the beer stall.

He found one nearby, its gaily painted signed to be selling a family recipe. It read Finnegan's Dark stout and was selling for a more than fair price. Matthias, excited made is way over to the stall where it was staffed by a short sandy haired boy of about his age. He was dressed untidily in tweed trousers and a beaten up rugby shirt, where the outline of a wand was barely visible from the waistband of his pants. His blue eyes lit up as he came closer.

" Ah, me First customer of the day! Pull up a stool, it'll be the best brew you've ever tasted!" He said, gesturing to a plain wooden chair. Matthias did, giving him a nod and putting two silver coins on the wood.

" I don't think I've seen you here before. I thought I knew everyone in the village." Matthias said as the young barkeep poured him a beer from a still behind him.

"Ah, well, Me ma's family is from here, and me Da wanted me to come here and peddle my brew before I went back to school, and to spend some time with my grandparents. I'm from Shannon actually." he said, wiping his nose with a dirty hand.

" Oh, wait, Old Lord Mac Aodha's Grandson?" Matthias asked, taking a drink of the beer, it was very good.

" Yeah, Seamus Finnegan. You one of ours then?" he asked,extending his hand for a shake.

" Matthias Kinneavy," He shook the offered hand , " I just finished my N.E.W.T.S., now I'm going to Hogwarts in Scotland for an apprenticeship. I heard they are only taking six, and this is the first time in one hundred years they have taken apprentices."

" Oh really? Well, we have something in common, then." Seamus said, settling down to talk.

Matthias was happy. Hogwarts is one of the best wizarding schools in all of Europe and one needed to be an apprentice to qualify for a mastery. A Master is a rare thing these days, with most witches and wizards not pursing the limit of their abilities and being contented with farming or office jobs at the ministries. To be accepted as a Apprentice required a high level of magical power, competency and the willingness to be bound to a master for at least 2 years. Most people weren't ready for the commitment at the tender age of seventeen.

" So," Seamus asked, " What are you studying?"

" Divination." Matthias replied,glaring at him as he started laughing. " What?" he asked sharply.

" It's not you, mate. The Divination professor at Hogwarts is a mess is all. I'm starting to doubt if it's real." He said once he caught his breath.

" Oh it's real, believe me, that's why I need to be trained,. The headaches alone are enough to drive you mad." he took a long pull of his beer.

The two continued talking throughout the day, until the sun went down and Matthias collected the Bluebell, who didn't place sadly and headed home. The young man made it drunkenly upstairs where he stumbled into bed, where he dreamed of big castles and laughing barkeeps.


End file.
